And what added to the humor of this extraordinary duet--if we can call it so--was the delight with which each intimated his satisfaction at the performance of the other, as well as with the terms in which it was expressed.
"Well done, Dandy! dang my buttons, but you shine upon the wires.

Ah, thin, it's you that is and ever was the wiry lad--and sure that was what made you take to the dulcimer of course.

Dandy, achora, will you give us, 'Merrily kissed the Quaker ?' and I ask it, Dandy, bekaise we are in a religious way, and have a quakers' meetn' in the coach." "No," replied Dandy; "but I'll give you the 'Bonny brown Girl,' that's worth a thousand of it, you thief." "Bravo, Dandy, and so it is; and, as far as I can see in the dark, dang my buttons, but I think we have one here, too." "I thank you for the compliment, sir," said Alley, appropriating it without ceremony to herself.

"I feel much obliged to you, sir; but I'm not worthy of it." "My darling," replied the jolly farmer, "you had betther not take me up till I fall.

How do you know it was for you it was intended?
You're not the only lady in the coach, avourneen." "And you're not the only gintleman in the coach, Jemmy Doran," replied Alley, indignantly.